Snape's Lost Memory
by Adosia
Summary: A memory of Lily that didn't quite make it into Snape's pensieve. Based off a personal real-life experience. Compliant with all books.


_I have no affiliation with JK Rowling, obviously. Compliant with all installments of the Harry Potter series._

_This story is based off events in my real life and is dedicated to someone who had meant the world to me._

_Enjoy._

**Snape's Lost Memory**

**16 August 1975, Aged 15.**

He was borderline obsessive.

The thick skin of the tree faltered only slightly underneath the tip of his old quill, but he was not dismayed. It had been a spur of the moment idea of Severus Snape's, anyway; had he planned it out, he would have come prepared. A nice, sturdy, stainless knife, perhaps. He had noticed the healthy, young willow sapling during this particular escape from his home life and thought it special. It would live a long life, he mused, still being so young. It was then that he rummaged through his faded gray pockets to find an old, beat-up quill. To carve her name into the tree alongside his would be cliche, perhaps, but also a symbol of his growing love for the redheaded girl. One that once the tree had matured, it would be too high up on its trunk to ever erase. He was comforted by the thought.

He could have used magic to make his engraving, but the physical labor made it more personal. There was something poetic about a hand-carved proclamation for his love of Lily Evans. Maybe he could show her this when he decided to tell her how he felt. Maybe she'd think he was a complete fruit cup. Even if she thought so, Severus knew she'd never say it out loud. He silently pre-thanked her for that courtesy.

An hour passed, and then two. It was nearly sunset before he finished his carving in the bark of the willow tree. It was hardly elegant; crude, spidery letters crusted with a hardening sap spelled out "_Severus + Lily._" He debated a little bit of underage magic to wash the sap out of the crevices, but decided he would simply settle on hoping for rainfall. The quill was an even worse eyesore, with the tip bent in awkward positions and the feathers ruffled from the sweat of his palm. Despite all this, Severus felt a warmth inside of him that he hadn't felt in a while. With this tree being right down the street from the park where he'd met Lily, he figured he had a month before school began to show her his creation. If only he could gather the courage. What he'd give to be a Gryffindor right now...

Still satisfied with himself, he began the walk back to his dismal home in neutral spirits. He noticed a quiet roll of thunder a few miles off in the distance. The light drizzle falling upon him with the night even inspired a little smile.

**25 August 1975, Aged 15.**

"It's right over here," he said, his light smile held back only by a slight pang of nervousness.

"Just tell me what we're looking at, Sev!" She laughed, quite enjoying the little scavenger hunt he had going on. Having picked up on his tense and fidgety behavior all evening, she was even more intrigued then she may have been normally.

"You've got to promise not to laugh," he said only half-jokingly. Severus glanced back over the shoulder of his moth-eaten t-shirt to her, and she nodded in agreement. He allowed himself a larger smile and turned back toward the steadily arriving willow.

Stopping a foot or so away, he took a deep breath. This was it - this was going to be his revealing moment to Lily Evans. Suddenly, he felt himself go pale. _She's going to hate it, you prat, _he groaned inwardly._ She's going to say you're a sappy, obsessive, disgu-_

"Severus?"

He glanced back at Lily, who had a look of concern etched upon her lovely features. He was suddenly aware that he'd been standing here for a minute or so without saying anything to her, and with a face pale as a ghost. He forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"The tree..." he barely croaked, pointing at the spot where his confession was scarred.

Lily gave him a quizzical look before finally approaching the sapling, not really sure what to expect. He stared intensely at her face - he knew that Lily was too kind to recoil with disgust, so it was imperative that he caught her first reaction. He wanted to know how she really felt.

He watched her emerald eyes scan the sloppy lettering quickly, and noticed her blink three or four times as she realized what it said. He suddenly wished he had washed out the letters of sap himself instead of waiting for the rain. _You're a piece of work, Severus,_ his mind chided, _can't even attempt to present something decent to the girl of your dreams. Way to go._ He pushed away these thoughts as he continued to scan her.

Her features suddenly relaxed into a shy smile while a hot blush crept across her cheeks, clashing madly with her hair, but Severus either didn't notice or didn't care. All he could see was that mesmerizing smile. _She likes it? She likes it, she likes it, she likes it..._ his mind fumbled over itself, over that same thought, until the words began to lose meaning, all in a matter of a couple seconds.

She snapped Severus out of his trance when she moved away from the tree and toward him.

"Well?" He barely whispered.

She smiled up at him confidently. "I like your surprises, Sev."

With that, she pulled him into a hug. Severus was surprised, but elated. For that moment, he was truly happy. He was aware of everything and nothing at the same time - he could feel the muggy, post-rain air thick in his lungs, the moist droplets from the grass collecting on the bottom of his jeans, could hear the chirp of crickets as the moon unveiled herself a little early. Despite his sudden awareness, he focused on nothing but the feel of this girl in his arms. As she pulled away, he felt an undeniable pang of selfishness - why did that feeling need to end?

Severus thought he might overflow with joy at how well she received the news. It was understandable that if a simple hug from Lily was enough to make him feel on top of the world, the peck on his cheek that followed afterward flung him over the moon. He didn't bother trying to contain his grin from her.

He decided to walk her back to the playground where they had met before going their separate ways home. He wasn't sure exactly where they stood now after his silent proclamation, but the details didn't matter to him in the slightest. The fact that he had any chance at all would keep him in amazed shock for a very long time. He had spent the last few hours with her sitting under their tree, talking lightly about her day and his, enjoying each others' pleasant company until night grew around them. It was undoubtedly the best day of his young life.

Their soft footsteps fell silent as they reached the point where they would need to go their separate ways.

"I had a really lovely day with you," she said quietly, smiling as she met his dark eyes.

"As did I, Lily."

She turned away from him with a little wave and took a few steps away, him watching her go. After a brief pause, however, she turned to face him. Without a word, their eyes met and they walked toward each other, their silhouettes only visible in the brightening moonlight. Severus put his hands on her arms as they slipped around his back. Leaning in simultaneously, their lips came together gently, the night sky their only witness. The kiss was sweet, innocent, and quick; they resurfaced some seconds later. Lily took one last look at Severus before beaming brightly, and he knew right then that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever known. Tracing his hand along her chin quickly, he bid her a quick farewell, not wanting the night to end but knowing it had to soon. She would be missed by her parents if she stayed out much later.

They each walked home that night in higher spirits they had been in in a very, very long time.

**25 June 1976, Aged 16.**

The force of his slammed dormitory door sent the puny mirror on the wall shattering into a thousand pieces.

Severus didn't flinch. His blind fury had sent first years scrambling from the Slytherin Common Room, granting Severus a privacy that he didn't care if he had or not. He chucked his schoolbooks across his bed, unaffected by the horrible thudding noises they made as they contacted the headboard. He could murder Potter and Black. Lupin too, for the hell of it. Pettigrew would be an easy target. He hated them. Hated them with a passion that was only outdone by how much he hated himself right now.

_You've outdone yourself this time, you bloody prat,_ his mind cried in rage,_ you've gone and screwed everything up for good._

Why had he done that? What was he thinking? To hurt the one person he cared about, the one person who cared about him - to call her a _mud blood_! This year had been going so well for him. Beautiful, warm smiles from his Lily, occasionally accompanied by swift kisses. Early morning chats before the Gryffindor brutes were awake, and cheerful Potions conversations whenever he could catch her alone.

He found a reason to blame everyone involved for his error. He blamed himself for taking Lily for granted. He blamed Lily for getting involved when he was already highly embarrassed and stressed out. He blamed Lupin and Pettigrew for standing by and watching passively without stopping their oafs of friends. Of course, he blamed Potter and Black for getting him in this mess at all.

The torch lighting up his side of the dormitory blew out in his refueled fury. Wild, magical bursts were the markings of a child's temper, and he hadn't experienced the sensation in many years. Not even his father's fits of rage could inspire such an emotional lashing in Severus anymore, yet here he was, blowing out torches, breaking mirrors, and who knew what next.

He honestly hated himself. He hated himself so much that he wished he would shrivel up into dust. The look on her face as he said that terrible, horrible word; the immediate loss of trust, of affection, the death of any relationship they had ever had or would ever have. The normally warm, passionate eyes that had permanently flashed cold and indifferent haunted his vision. He needed to talk to her, needed to fix this. This year was meant to be perfect. This was meant to be the start of something incredible for them.

But he'd screwed it all up. This was, and forever will be, the biggest mistake of his life.

Severus howled in a fearsome mixture of rage and self-pity.

**4 July 1976, Aged 16.**

It had been a full week now since Severus had last talked to Lily and begged her forgiveness. He lay on the small mattress of his room, the cold and unwelcoming atmosphere perfectly fitting his horrible mood. He had spent much of this week in this exact position, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with dead, black eyes. It was his fault. It was all his fault.

He continuously ran the meeting through his head, wishing each time the outcome would be different and knowing that it wouldn't be.

She wanted to cut off all ties to him. His growing interest in the dark arts was too much, she said. It wasn't healthy, it was changing him. He'd only looked into it more out of curiosity. She'd be mad to think that he wouldn't give it up for her if she just said the word. He'd do bloody anything for her, really. He knew, however, that it would never be enough.

_She's too good for you, anyway. She's perfect, for Merlin's sake. You're too greasy, too dark, too far off the beaten path for such a pristine example of virtue. What could you ever possibly ever offer her?_

These thoughts had plagued Severus nonstop since she had stormed off away from him without so much as a backward glance.

It was then that he heard his father enter through the front door, calling for his mum. His father hadn't taken well to the idea of Severus doing nothing all day every day, and was keen to express his complaints through physical means. Severus was awoken out of his numb state long enough to reason to himself to get out of the house before he was noticed. He wasn't too sure yet where he was going to go, but he figured he could find a shady spot to sit under until it was dark.

As soon as he stepped out into the air, he immediately regretted it. His head swooned from lack of movement all week, and his legs groaned with a stiffness that seemed only more aggravated by the pleasant breeze blowing around them. Worst of all, he knew exactly where he was going to wind up. He did not want to go there, and he would stop himself from going if he could. He knew, however, it was hopeless. "_Let's just get this over with_," he sighed to himself.

It took him much longer to get there than usual. He dragged his feet slowly across the unmown path down the street, deliberately taking his time observing the environment around him. The clouds were fluffy and white against a bright blue canopy, suggesting a sickening happiness that was anywhere but with Severus. He noted dully that this scenery was the stark opposite of how it had been the thundering, muggy night he was here the first time.

He halted once the willow sapling was in his line of sight.

He didn't want to approach it.

His feet moved anyway.

Within an eternity, he had finally come within arms length of the willow. It had started to grow a bit; the characteristic "weeping" branches had started to form, already beginning to cover the spot where his marking was placed. His breath hitched in his throat as his hand reached out to brush the budding branches aside, to read their names carved into the flesh of the tree. He shut his eyes tightly, envisioning himself standing here a year ago, with Lily Evans, remembering exactly how she had blushed the day he showed her his artwork. He allowed himself a smile; it felt foreign to him after so long, and he didn't want to let go of the feeling quite yet. His eyes slowly opened, eagerly running over the bark.

But it was gone.

It was as if Severus's world had suddenly shattered around him. His hands turned to ice. He stared unflinchingly at the gash where their names had been scraped off - by hand, it looked. Nothing could have prepared Severus for this moment, for this intense shot of pain.

"Lily..."

He fell to his knees, his head pressed up against the trunk of the willow. Thoughts flashed over him; daydreams of seeing his mark on the tip-top of the tree ten, twenty years later, holding the hand of his woman. The symbol of the tree growing taller and stronger over hundreds of years to come, much like their life together. Now the only symbol this tree held was a huge gash in its flesh which would never fully heal over. That would be the scar he saw on its trunk in the future years to come.

The sense of loss was overwhelming; he had never felt so intensely before.

Severus wept.

**19 November 1981, Aged 21.**

Severus shut the door to Dumbledore's office, rethinking everything that had just occurred.

Lily is dead.

He had just offered his services up to Dumbledore, began his life as a spy.

He had no idea what he was getting himself into, but all he knew was that it was his fault. He may as well have killed Lily himself. He resolved to return to his house on Spinner's End and drink until he couldn't bloody well remember his own name anymore.

Lily Evans, dead.

He hurried home to follow through on his plan.

**26 November 1981, Aged 21.**

One wouldn't think that this man before them was twenty-one, just starting the peak of his life. Occasional gray hairs prematurely plagued him, crows' feet played freely across the corners of his eyes, the smell of booze on him initiated a gag reflex in anyone within a 5 meter radius. In merely a week, he had transformed into a person who looked 30 years older than he really was. Severus was sober for the first time in days, having largely avoided facing Lily's death up until now. He now sat in a window seat of a coffee shop in Diagon Alley, watching absently as people hurried by with their expensive purchases. Severus Snape was not much of a people-watcher, but there wasn't much else he had been in the mood for all day. He was trying to come to terms with himself, with his new position in the battle of the Dark Lord versus Dumbledore, with Lily's death, and with the Sirius Black scum who had turned Lily's location over to the Death Eaters.

He still felt largely numb. He considered visiting Lily's grave, but the thought that she and Potter might be buried together was enough to turn him off from the idea.

A temptation was there to visit their tree. Merlin knew he'd been tempted to go there hundreds of times over the past five years, to see if maybe, just maybe, that whole scenario there had been a nightmare. He knew that going there couldn't make him feel any worse than he did now, If anything, the fond memories of her could cheer him up a little.

Without much thought, he walked out of the coffee shop, leaving a generous tip on the table despite having ordered nothing. As he entered the street, he drew in a shallow breath and apparated to his old home town.

He wasn't as nostalgic of the area as other people might have been of their childhood streets. The only good memories of here were all related to Lily, and those memories had been tainted too many times by his own foolish actions. Regardless, he started his familiar trek toward the weeping willow.

Making it to the tree quickly, he noticed that the tree seemed to be growing fairly steadily to the rate he was growing, albeit slightly slower. The fronds of hanging branches would be enchanting, were it not for the painful reminder of what he lost hidden under the needles. He stared longingly at the tree before doing anything, wishing, not for the first time, that things had been different. What good did this do for him, to dwell so heavily of the what-ifs? He allowed himself this one time, however. Everyone allows themselves those one-time moments of weakness.

Snapping out of his train of thought, Severus ducked under the swaying foliage and close to the trunk of the tree. He saw the gauge in the bark clear as day; it was just as visible now as it had been five years ago. He stared at this imperfection for a very long time, not making a noise. He imagined himself staring into the Mirror of Erised; he would see himself there, Lily alive, smiling, forgiving him, maybe even loving him again. This image imprinted itself on his mind for what seemed like an eternity. Slowly, as he came to, he approached the mark carefully. It had only risen a few inches since the last time he had seen it, and so he was able to reach it easily. Fingers like ice brushed along the splintered wood, sparing him the frustration of embedding itself in his skin, as if it knew what his purpose was. He stood there like that, thumb along the ridge, for a while. Slowly, his eyes closed, and he placed a gentle kiss upon the spot where Lily had scraped off their names in a fit of rage. A tear escaped the corner of each eye, slowly forming paths down his unkempt face.

He heard a muffled cough behind him.

Spinning, he turned to see Dumbledore watching him with a mixed look of understanding and concern. Feeling oddly relieved, Severus let out the breath he was unaware he had been holding.

"You really did love her, Severus," he stated. Severus restrained himself from wondering how much more obvious the aging man could get.

"It's like a kiss through a veil," he said quietly. He had heard the expression before, but wasn't entirely positive what it had meant. He figured it didn't matter what it actually referred to. It seemed fitting for the occasion.

Dumbledore took a step and placed his hand on Severus's shoulder. "Let's go, Severus. There's much we need to discuss if you are to be helping the Order from now on."

Severus sighed, taking one last glance at his metaphorical wound before turning to Dumbledore and nodding. "Alright, sir."

In a loud _POP_, they apparated away to the Order's hideout, leaving the willow to weep in Severus's place.


End file.
